One cannot escape air.

But one could possible escape the moment of air between us.

The slits of my skirt,

Cling on me

As though they secretly prematurely

Anticipated something to avoid.

Minutes build to tensions

The tunnel of my thirst,

Is parched and someone,

Breathing is compromised.

You cannot live without air.

You cannot avoid it.

Here is a kind gesture,

Between the life that happens between us,

Air is what we share,

Before I de-appetise you from your cold and forgotten sandwich,

If you could only take two shy steps back,

Away from my cubicle

I could stretch my arms out

Point at your table,

To a sandwich left neglected,

Microscopically putrefied

 by the gregarious gush of indispensible air.

Without persuasion,

Your feet will echo my song of mirth,

And the slits of my skirt will free themselves,

And begin to breathe a different kind of air,

I’d watch you retreat

The silhouette and tempo of it,

Would tell me secrets your body fails to hide

And I, in the moment,

Will begin to breathe a

 longed-for air.


 (The journey of folly- Project Journey) 7/11/11


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